


Crying in my prom dress

by der1r3yes



Category: Clone High
Genre: F/M, First Date, Teen Romance, ending spoilers, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der1r3yes/pseuds/der1r3yes
Summary: Following the events of S1 E13 of Clone High but with my own little spin on things (AKA what I wish happened,,,,)
Relationships: Joan of Arc/JFK (Clone High)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 233





	Crying in my prom dress

**Author's Note:**

> i recently got into clone high and i got joanfk brain rot rn so enjoy!!! chapter 2 will come at some point soon hopefully :•)
> 
> also i don’t proofread my work so i apologise for any grammar/spelling errors, i’m usually writing at like 3 am

So much for prom being the best night of her life. 

After what she had just witnessed, Joan was pretty sure it was heading the list as the worst night of her life. Here she was all dressed up like a hooker; complete with a tacky red wig and her makeup smeared down her cheeks in messy black streaks from the uncontrollable flood of tears she had erupted into as she watched Abe and Cleo disappear off together in search of a more private place to screw. 

That was it, she’d lost him for good now. 

Sighing heavily as she plopped down onto the steps outside the meat locker, Joan tore the wig from her head and tossed it towards a nearby trashcan, scoring a perfect basket, but even that couldn’t make her smile. 

The redhead snivelled and wrapped her arms around herself as she hugged her legs to her chest, planting her chin on top of her knees and letting her tears flow freely down her cheeks as she started to cry quietly. 

\- - - - - - - - - -

Kennedy had been keeping an eye on all of his dates throughout the evening, but paid particular attention to Joan. She was the one he really wanted after all; the others were merely backups for when she inevitably ditched him for that lanky, side burned idiot, Abe. 

He didn’t want to look like that loser that got left alone by his date on prom night! 

When he noticed her missing from the venue, he slipped out one of the back doors to check the parking lot. That seemed like a likely place for her to disappear off to and he soon discovered that he was right, even in the dim light of the flickering street lamps it was impossible to miss that fiery red hair. Beginning to make his way towards her, he was stopped in his tracks as she abruptly turned her head to face him, it seemed he wasn’t quite as stealthy as he’d hoped... 

“Shouldn’t you be with your other dates?” She questioned as sharply as ever, bringing a hand up to dry her eyes and further smudge her running mascara as JFK slowly approached until he was stood close beside her, peering down with a surprisingly tender expression. “Actually, uh. Catherine the Great is heaving bile into the hotdog vat. And I er eh... Gave the Bronte sisters to the three stooges..” He admitted with a light, casual shrug of his shoulders. Despite the fact her makeup was ruined and her hair a tousled mess, he couldn’t help but admire how much better she looked now that she was more... Herself again. 

When Joan caught Kennedy continuing to stare at her, she figured he was coming up with some kind of joke to make and deep down, she couldn’t blame him; she was a joke. 

A joke and a mess.

She decided to get in there first, save at least a shred of her dignity and possibly even turn it back on him, make him out to be the bigger loser. “You know I used you Kennedy. I used you to try and make Abe jealous.” She told him truthfully with a sigh, letting her shoulders slump momentarily before they tensed once more and she let out a frustrated cry. It sounded even more desperate and pathetic when she said it out loud. “Ugh, I’m such a girl!” 

As the woman spoke, Kennedy slowly lowered himself to sit at her side, it wasn’t like he’d be rejoining the party anytime soon so he may as well get comfortable. He offered a faint smile in response to her little outburst and set a firm yet caring hand upon her shoulder, squeezing softly in sympathy. “Exactly. You’re a real knock out Betty, Joan.” He said simply, pondering carefully over his next words before just blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “And a better Betty when you're not faking being some slutty whore.” Hey, at least he was honest. 

As blunt as his statement was, it earned a feeble giggle from the redhead and she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she turned her head to shift her gaze from the warm hand still lingering on her shoulder to the handsome, smiling face before her. The apples of her usually pale cheeks warmed to a ripe, rosy red and she blinked a couple of times as their eyes met. “You mean... You like me when I’m just me?” She murmured in disbelief. 

That wasn’t something she ever expected to hear, especially not from someone like JFK. It was sweet though... Even if he was lying just to make her feel better, it was still more than Abe had ever done.

The brunette gave her cold, bare shoulder one final comforting squeeze before retracting his hand and moving to slip off his jacket, shooting her a couple of swift finger guns as he draped the material around her to keep her at least partially warm in her skimpy prom dress. “Ring-a-ding-ding.” He said, nodding his head and smiling benevolently. “That chowderhead Lincoln just can't see it without some bozo makeover... I tell ya, that guy's head is so full-a chowder, he should have a bread bowl for a beard!” He had intended for his little joke to help lighten the mood somewhat but it seemed that the mention of Abe had caused it to go down like a lead balloon. 

His laughter faltered off awkwardly after a few moments as Joan’s expression dropped and she turned her head away once more, wiping her face a second time for good measure and sniffing as she fought back a second wave of tears. With her free hand, she grasped the lapels of JFK’s jacket and tugged it tighter around herself, inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. It was so different to Abe’s... He was so different to Abe. He actually seemed to care about her which was most surprising. 

Why not shoot her shot...? It was prom night after all. 

“Can we get out of here? I can’t bare going back in there but there’s no point in us just sitting here...” She mumbled, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a nervous chew. As hard as Kennedy tried to suppress his grin, it was no use. He couldn’t help but smile at Joan’s request that the two of them leave together, in fact, he couldn’t have thought of anything better himself. “That, uh, sounds like a plan to me.” He answered, trying to play it cool as he rose to his feet and extended his hand in offering to help her up. She accepted it with a small smile of her own and got up, teetering a little in her unfamiliar heels and gripping tightly to his bicep for support. Tonight had been humiliating enough, she didn’t need to fall on her ass in front of the only guy that seemed remotely interested in her. 

“Careful.” He breathed out with a low chuckle, steadying her at the waist before allowing her to take his arm like she had at the beginning of the night. “You er thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” JFK asked, tilting his head and flashing her that signature Kennedy smile. Joan wrinkled her nose in response and her brows immediately knitted together in concern as she eyed that all too familiar smile. “Please don’t say makeover...” She said in exasperation. The last few times those words had been uttered in her presence, she’d been forced into a variety of hideous outfits, had her hair tugged and teased and heavy amounts of makeup caked all over her face. She definitely didn’t have it in her for another makeover. 

Luckily though, JFK just snorted in response and shook his head. “No, not a makeover! Though, uh, we should maybe get some tissue so you can wipe that lot off ya face.” He said thoughtfully whilst gesturing to her tear stained cheeks. “I was thinkin’ more along the lines of The Grassy Knoll.” A popular diner amongst the students of Clone High, though it would most likely be pretty empty on this particular night, what with everyone else enjoying prom at the meat locker. Joan considered his suggestion before a sweet smile graced her features and she nodded in response. “That sounds nice...”


End file.
